


The Cabin in the Woods

by AnnabethTheUnicorn



Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012), The Cabin in the Woods (2011)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Parapines, SSParapines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnabethTheUnicorn/pseuds/AnnabethTheUnicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper, Norman, and three of their friends expected to spend the weekend relaxing by the lake. Really, they should have expected the zombie attack. But as the five college students are picked off one by one, they're about to discover that there's more at work here than just your run-of-the-mill crazy torture-obsessed zombie family. What the hell have they gotten themselves into?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cabin in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tyelperin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyelperin/gifts).



> My ssparapines gift for tyelperin!!! A parapines fic based on the Whedon movie "The Cabin in the Woods." (I did deviate slightly from the movie, but I hope you like how it turned out!) This was loads of fun to write. Thanks to niczka and eliseisachristmasturtle for helping me english.

“Dipper was right.”

“Norman…”

“He was right, Salma. He was right about everything.”

“Norman this isn’t your fault, okay?”

“I know.” He laughed. It surprised them both. After everything the two of them had witnessed, neither thought they’d ever hear laughter again.

The five of them had arrived just that afternoon. It had been Dipper’s idea to get away for a few days. Neil’s cousin had agreed to let them use his cabin, and they’d driven up in Salma’s parents’ Rambler for a long weekend of fun by a lake in the middle of nowhere. A cabin in the woods. Norman, for one, was grateful for the escape. Dipper always got astronomically stressed out during finals, and the both of them were happy to have a weekend to de-stress and just be together after the rigorous testing was complete.

And then things got weird.

Dipper tried to tell them. He did. Of course, he figured it out first, before any of them even realised something was up. Firstly, Norman found the place quite peaceful, quiet even. And it wasn’t until he looked around that he realized why. There were no ghosts anywhere. Not in the cabin, not by the lake, not around the forest. Nowhere. Dipper said that was the first warning sign. Then, Mabel started acting… weird, to say the least. And it wasn’t just her newly-bleached hair, either. She seemed to be genuinely flirting with everything that moved, even moreso than usual. “It’s like something’s screwing with the chemistry in her brain!” Dipper had said. And then Neil started acting weird, too. More like his brother Mitch, though not quite as oblivious. He was more manliness and testosterone than good old Neil. But Salma didn’t seem to find any of it strange, and Norman… Well, Norman wanted a quiet weekend with his boyfriend. He wanted it so bad that he convinced himself and Dipper that these fears were just a result of paranoia and too many horror movies.

But then, they went in the basement. Then, they found the journal. Then, they read the enchantment.

And things went horribly wrong.

Mabel, Neil… Dipper. One by one, their friends had been ripped away from them by the gruesome hands of some crazy torture-obsessed zombie family. Now only the two of them were left, desperately driving nowhere in the same vehicle that brought them there.

“It’s the puppeteers.” Norman realized.

“Come on, Norman.” Salma didn’t take her eyes off the road. “You and me, we’re all that we’ve got left… Don’t- don’t go nuts on me, okay?” She begged.

He took a deep breath. Salma was right. Of course she was right, she was usually right. He had to keep his head on. That’s what Dipper would have wanted…

“I’m okay.”

“Good.” Relief flooded her features. Norman was grateful to see Salma’s I-have-a-plan face. “Those things are deadly strong and bloodthirsty, but they weren’t particularly fast. The gas tank is mostly full. If we can just stay moving until morning, then…”

Then what? He wanted to ask. Would sunlight make any difference when there was no tunnel, no phone, no way out?

“…Then we’ll figure something out from there.” She said. “The important thing is that we stay calm-”

She barely had the words out when a rusty scythe tore its way through her throat from behind with a horrifying WSSSHLICK. Blood splattered the steering wheel, the windshield, and most of Norman’s left side.

“SALMA!”

The father zombie was behind them. Damn, Norman thought. They had forgotten rule #31: Always check the backseat. Dipper would never have let them forget rule #31.

That was his first thought. Not: She’s going to die. Not: Salma is going to be gone forever, just like Mabel, just like Neil, just like Dipper. And Not: I am going to die. All those thoughts came, sure. But none of them were his first. No, Norman’s first thought was a goddamn Zombieland reference.

He was pretty sure he was losing his mind, but he’d have to think about that later.

The father zombie ripped his scythe from Salma’s neck and turned on Norman. She gurgled helplessly, clutching her throat. He screamed.

With the steering wheel left unattended, the Rambler went crashing into the lake. The windshield shattered and water rushed in. They were submerged in seconds. Norman couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, under the surface, everything was dulled. It was almost completely silent. Serene. Calm. It was peaceful, he thought. And it did send the father zombie flying to the back of the Rambler. But, on the other hand, he could very well drown if he couldn’t get his. Damn. Seatbelt. Off.

It finally came free and he turned to Salma. She was fading fast. The blood seeping out of her neck and into the water was dissipating, but even Norman, with the little-to-no medical knowledge he had, could see she wouldn’t make it. Salma, who had extensive knowledge of such things, being some prodigy medical student, could see the same. The second Norman reached for her seatbelt, she shook her head violently. That had to hurt.

He shook his head right back at her, her own words echoing in his mind. _We’re all that we’ve got left._ He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

But then she looked at him with her crystal-clear brown eyes. And she shook her head. Slowly. Meaningfully.

And then the clarity faded and Salma went still. Completely still.

His chest contracted. That was it.

Without really thinking about it, he kicked up to the ceiling hatch and spun the crank, shoving his elbow into the screen and grabbing the edge to propel himself to the surface. But he wasn’t more than half-way out of the Rambler when an undead hand latched onto his ankle with deadly force.

It was while Norman was under the water, sinking deeper by the second, with a deranged zombie yanking him to certain doom, that something clicked inside him. He didn’t recognize it at first. Determination. His friends wouldn’t die for nothing. They would be remembered. He had to tell their story. He had to fucking live.

He kicked the father zombie in the face with everything he had, and managed to knock him back into the quickly-descending Rambler. And he swam for the surface.

He kicked for more than just his life, but for the cut-short lives of his best friends. He was gonna live, if nothing else, for them.

 

 

There was a general hoopla among the control room workers. Beers were had, music was played, and relief was widespread. They had succeeded where the Japanese and every other country had failed. The ceremony was complete, and the world was once again safe.

“Goddamn, that was close.” Gideon sighed, popping open a bottle.

“Photo-fucking-finish,” agreed Preston. “But we are the champions. Of the world.”

But one employee of the guy downstairs was less relieved and more confused.

“I don’t understand,” said Robbie, who had only been working in the control room since the beginning of this cycle. “We’re …celebrating? But spikey-hair guy is still alive, how can the ritual be complete?”

“The Virgin’s death is optional,” explained Gideon between swigs. “As long as it’s last.” He focused back on the monitor, where “spikey-hair guy” had broken the surface of the lake and was sluggishly swimming towards the dock. “All that really matters is that he suffers.”

Preston joined the two of them in front of the screen. “That he did,” he said, with something like respect weaved into his voice.

“Believe it or not, I’m actually rooting for him,” said Gideon. “Kid’s got spunk.”

 

 

Norman finally reached the dock. He grabbed the wooden post. Gripping, he pulled himself up. He collapsed on the dock. The stars shone above him.

He could see Ursa Major.

He was alive.

After everything, he was alive.

He closed his eyes and breathed in.

And it came out in a scream as a bear trap splintered the wooden boards just millimeters from his head.

 

 

Robbie watched as spikey-hair scrambled away from the brother zombie – What was its name? Mathew? – and used the pole at the end of the dock to push himself up. Nobody else was paying attention.

“I’m telling you, though!” Gideon insisted, mid-conversation with two people in lab coats, (chem specialists maybe?) “It would have been cooler with a Merman.”

“You knuckleheads almost gave me a heart-attack when you left the tunnel collapse to the last second!” Preston admonished, approaching two guys from the demolition crew. “They almost escaped.”

“That wasn’t us!” Protested the first guy.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” said Preston.

“No, seriously,” said the second. “We didn’t fuck it up. There was an unauthorized power re-route from upstairs.”

All at once, Preston’s mood shifted. “Wait,” he put down his drink. “What do you mean upstairs?”

BRRRING.

Silence. Every worker froze and turned to stare at the single red phone, ringing like a cheerful funeral bell.

Preston stepped toward the phone. “Turn the fucking music off,” he said. It shut off. He took a breath before taking the phone and bringing it to his ear, facing the wall. “Hello sir.” A dreadful moment passed. “That’s impossible. Everything was within the guidelines and the Virgin is the only— …No. No! Of course I’m not doubting you, sir, it’s just…” Another beat of silence and Preston jerked, turning to face the monitors, expression grim.  “Which one?”

 

 

Norman hit the dock hard. Though it wasn’t much of a dock anymore, it was more like a splintered mess of wet wood. He imagined he must not look much better, a bloodied mess of wet bruises. But even as the brother zombie approached him again, he refused to give in. Barely able to stand, he searched the area. He saw, a few feet from him, a loose, sturdy-looking plank. If he was lucky, he could use it as a weapon. He reached for it, but the creature’s foot came down on his arm. Hard. Holding him in place, totally at the mercy of the monster. He cried out, and the zombie swung the bear trap above his head, ready to take the final blow. Norman closed his eyes.

But before the zombie could bring the deathtrap down and end his life, a worn, red book caught the chain from behind, and the bear trap wrapped around it before coming back around to hit the brother zombie in the temple, sending him crashing down to the dock.

The pressure left his arm and Norman’s eyes shot open and locked with all-too-familiar brown ones.

“Dipper!”

The other boy – who looked about as ruffled as Norman felt, smiled. Dipper smiled, and suddenly Norman felt life was worth living for himself again. He opened his mouth to respond, but the zombie was already starting to rise.

“Norman, run!”

He saw Dipper raise the book again, but if he thought Norman was gonna leave him here – to die all over again – he was sorely mistaken. Norman grabbed the loose plank just as the thing bore down on Dipper and swung it directly into its face, sending the zombie crashing off the dock and into the lake.

“Holy shit!”

Norman turned to face his boyfriend. “You were dead!”

“What?”

“We saw the girl drag you off! Everybody said you were gone! I- we thought you were dead, asshole! God, fuck you, Dipper!” He said, tears streaming down his face.

Before either of them knew what was happening, Dipper had his arms wrapped around Norman. He was alive. Thank every single deity Norman had ever heard of, Dipper was alive. And maybe now… Maybe now they had a chance.

“Hey.” Dipper pulled back to meet his blue eyes. “I’m here now. And I’m gonna get us out of here, I promise.”

Norman shook his head. “There’s no way out, Dip. The tunnel collapsed.”

“I never said anything about the tunnel.”

“Wha-“

The two heard gurgling from the lake. Brother zombie was already picking his way up the dock again.

“Shit.” Dipper grabbed Norman’s unbruised wrist and pulled him towards the forest. “Come on.”

Norman followed without a fight. As they approached the cabin he asked, “Where are we going?”

Before Dipper could answer, the mother zombie burst out the front door. They both jumped, and Dipper pulled Norman to the right. “This way!”

They sprinted around the side, with the mother following behind. Turning a corner, a familiar grove came into view. Norman still remembered vividly how, not too long ago, the sister zombie had dragged his boyfriend, bloody and screaming, down into that same hole. How all Norman could do was scream and fight against the arms that held him back from trying to save his boyfriend. (Neil’s arms. He got “R-I-double-P-E-D” in high school, as Courtney would have said. And while Norman had about half-a-foot on him height-wise, he never had the strength to break free. He didn’t blame Neil. He was probably right. Norman probably would have gotten himself killed… But it didn’t make any difference now anyway, because Dipper was alive, and that was all that mattered.) He still remembered the horror of that place.

Dipper pulled open a hole at the bottom of the grove like a storm door. “Dipper, wait…”

“Norman, come on,” Dipper said, tugging at his wrist.

“W-we’re going in there?”

Dipper swung around and took his other hand. “I need you to trust me.”

Norman didn’t need to hear the rapid approach of the zombies to take that leap of faith. All he needed was to look into those amazingly bright brown eyes – alive, his mind supplied – and jump.

Their sneakers hit smooth, relatively clean, metal. Metal? And Dipper slammed the door behind them. The chamber was tiny, but wide. The only light source was a panel in the metal, with wires sticking out at strange angles. It looked like it’d been tampered with.

“What is this place?” Norman asked, taking a step towards the panel. He stepped on something soft and wet and looked down to see a dismembered puddle of zombie. So that’s how Dipper survived.

“Yeeaaahhhh,” Dipper said. “I had to dismember that one with a trowel.” His tone was joking, but when Norman met his eyes, they were every bit as traumatized as he felt. Dipper crossed to the panel and started fiddling. “What have you guys been up to?”

Norman let out some unrecognizable noise that was half a deprecating chuckle, half a sob, and shook his head.

Dipper paused in his fiddling to look back at him. “Salma?”

Norman shook his head.

“Neil?”

Norman shook his head.

Dipper already knew the fate of his sister. “Nobody else, huh?”

Norman shook his head.

“Yeah…” He turned back to the panel. “I- I kinda figured.”

“You figured everything.”

“Not even close-“

“No. Dipper.” Norman ran his fingers through his hair. “You knew when Mabel started acting strange after she dyed her hair. You knew when Neil started acting all alpha-male.” Tears streamed down his face. “And when there weren’t any ghosts around. You knew there was something else going on here. You knew all along. And none of us listened, not even me!”

“Norman.” Dipper took his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiped away the blood and tears to the best of his ability. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter now.

“But if we’d- If I’d believed you then maybe we- maybe they would still-”

“Don’t even start thinking about what-ifs right now. Neither of us can deal with that.” Dipper put his hands on Norman’s shoulders. “We just have to focus on getting out of here, okay?” Norman nodded. “And I think I found a way to do just that.”

“What?” Norman’s eyes widened. “How?”

“This place…” Dipper let go of Norman’s shoulders, but took one of his hands. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let go, which was fine because Norman never wanted him to. Dipper stepped away from the panel of wires and slid open a door beneath their feet. Norman peeked in. Under the floor was a brightly-lit metal box. “It’s an elevator.”

Norman blinked, beginning to understand the implication of an elevator in the middle of the deserted forest. “So…”

“Somebody sent the zombies up to get us.”

He squeezed Dipper’s hand. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But…” He crossed back to the panel. “Even though there aren’t any buttons or controls or anything inside, there are manual overrides, and I’ve been tinkering because, well maybe I shouldn’t have dawdled in getting back to you but I mean… I figured it would be safe in here until I could find a way to go get you guys, but then I heard the motor and the giant splash and you were screaming and-”

“Dipper.” Norman offered something that was almost a smile. “As much as I want to hear you splutter and ramble about how sorry you are for worrying me? I also want both of us to survive the night. Focus, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I- I was tinkering and I think…” He glanced at the panel. At the elevator below them. At Norman. “I think I can make it go down.”

Norman looked right back at him. “Do we wanna go down?”

“Hey, it beats the alternative.” Norman raised an eyebrow, but he sat on the edge, ready to slide down into the elevator, still with Dipper’s hand in his. “Norman.” He turned back to Dipper, who looked like he was about to say something, but instead he shut his mouth before muttering “The timing on this might be tight…” and reluctantly letting his hand go.

Norman looked at him a moment more before dropping down the hatch. He heard the sound of switches clicking and the elevator hummed to life. Dipper slipped in, and the contraption started sliding down.

A moment before the door slid closed, a trowel - presumably the one Dipper used to dismantle the zombie - along with one of the mutilated zombie’s arms fell into the elevator with the two boys. They both yelped and jumped back, holding onto each other instinctively, but there wasn’t much a single forearm could do to hurt them.

Dipper kicked it to the corner. “Fucking zombie arm.”

They clung to each other as the elevator moved down for a long while. It came to a sudden stop, and they shared a look. What now?

Then it started moving again.

“Are we moving… sideways?” Norman asked. Dipper shrugged.

It was then that they realized not all the walls of the elevator were metal. Two, on either side, were made of glass, unrecognisable when it was put in front of a metal elevator shaft. But moving to the side, there was only darkness on each side.

Then it began to slow before coming to a stop right next to another glass panel - another elevator? - and a werewolf jumped right at them. Norman screamed.

The thing slammed into the glass, mouth frothing and jaws closing on nothing. Dipper stared in incomprehension. “What?”

The werewolf slid to the left as the elevator slid away, and some kind of alien-looking creature was revealed, clinging to the ceiling before jumping on the glass and sticking there. It disappeared from view as the elevator moved down and to the side again.

The boys separated enough to look at the opposing windows. Through Dipper’s window, he saw a man with unnaturally white skin, a long leather coat, and buzzsaws sticking out of his head. On Norman’s side, a little girl in a ballerina costume looked up to reveal that where her face should have been was a circle of razor-sharp teeth, rotating menacingly.

But regardless of the face, Norman realized he’d seen this picture before. The little girl in the dress was identical to the one in a music box. A music box he’d seen in the basement before… before all of this started…

It hit him like a bear trap to the head.

“We chose…”

“What?” Dipper asked as the elevator moved back down to see more and more creatures - a neverending line of terror. All these things were packed into metal crates like they were surrounded by the Costco of death.

“In the basement. All that stuff we were playing with. They made us choose.” He was shaking - from anger? Fear? Both? - and then said, voice clear as broken glass, “They made us choose how we die.”

Dipper’s cry surprised him, though he supposed it shouldn’t. The other boy slammed his fist into the glass over and over again. It didn’t crack, it didn’t bend, it didn’t move. The fist colliding with the substance was too juvenile to have any chance.

Norman tried to hold him back, but weak as he was, the best he could do was hold him, unable to actually stop him from hitting the immovable window. After one last punch, Dipper gave up and turned to wrap his arms around the last person he had left.

They held each other, eyes closed, and tried not to see the horrors that surrounded them. Tried not to remember that empty feeling. Tried to forget.

****  
  


Preston watched the screen change, showing nine elevators at a time. The bastards had to be in one of them, but there were too goddamn many and they were running out of time. If the sun came up and the Fool was still alive…

“We saw them go down the access drop, they have to be in one of these,” he said to security over the comm. “Internal security should be able to- I don’t care if it’s against protocol! Are you high?”

Gideon meanwhile was monitoring the building. His screen featured halls, rooms, stairwells, some of which were being swept by security teams.

“It’s the boy twin. No! You can’t touch the medium, if the Fool outlives him this all goes to hell! Take the short one out first! What? ... Yes, if you have a confirmed kill you can kill the other one, too.”

Robbie was looking over Preston’s shoulder when he spotted them. “There!”

Preston froze the screen. “Thirty-six-oh-six…” he said. “Got it.”

“Bring them down,” said Gideon.

****  
  


The elevator was moving purposefully downward. It was obvious that it had a destination this time. They held each other tighter.  

Norman was closer to the door when it opened.  A man who looked like a member of a SWAT team put one foot in the door and pointed a gun at the both of them. Norman turned around in Dipper’s arms. Dipper tried to pull him back, but Norman stood firmly between him and the gun. Damn. Why did Norman always make it so hard for Dipper to protect him?

“Out of the elevator!” The guard snapped. “Step out of the elevator.”

“Why are you trying to kill us?” Dipper asked from over Norman’s shoulder.

“Step out.” He looked directly at Norman. “Just you.”

“What? Why?” Norman asked.

“Do it!” The guard waved his weapon meaningfully.

Dipper didn’t let go. Norman didn’t move. But before the guard could let loose another bout of “step the hell out of the elevator,” the cold, dead fingers of a zombie wrapped around his ankle. He screeched and started shooting at the disembodied arm that had seized him.

It all happened in a split second. Norman ran to tackle the guard, the guard aimed his gun at Dipper, and Dipper knocked the guy’s arm up so that when the gun went off…

It fired up the guard’s throat.

As the man clutched his bleeding neck, Dipper took the gun from him - he checked the clip, three bullets left - and turned to the arm, which had a couple bullets in it but was relatively unaffected.

“That’ll do, zombie arm. That’ll do.”

“Dipper.”

Dipper spun around. The chamber outside the elevator was about the size of a hotel lobby, one with four elevator doors on each side, and at the end of the hall was a guard station, with glass along the top half. It was probably the same glass the elevator had, Dipper thought.

They had barely gotten their bearings when a voice emerged over some kind of loudspeaker. The voice was all at once evil and benign, intimate and grating, alive and inhuman.

“This is all quite unpleasant,” it said. “I know you can hear me. I do hope you listen.”

Dipper grabbed Norman’s hand and put a finger to his lips, signaling him to stay quiet.

“You won’t get out of this complex alive,” the voice continued. “What I want you to understand is that you mustn’t. Your deaths will avert countless others.”

Dipper shook his head. It was lying, it had to be. He looked up at Norman, who seemed to actually be thinking about what the voice was saying. “Don’t listen,” Dipper whispered.

“You’ve seen horrible things: an army of nightmare creatures. And they are real. But they are nothing compared to what lies beneath us.”

“Beneath us?” Norman muttered. Dipper shook his head. There were endless myths and tales about things that lie beneath. The voice could be referring to anything from Satan to Cthulhu.

“There is a greater good,” explained the voice.

Dipper heard footsteps and saw shadows approaching from the hallway - more guards? He started looking for an escape.

“And for that you must be sacrificed.”

He spotted the guard’s station again, reinforced with the glass. The same glass. The impenetrable glass…

“Forgive us.”

He grabbed the trowel from where it had been deserted in the elevator and handed it to Norman before pulling him towards the station.

“And let us end it quickly.”

No sooner had the boys closed the door than the entire room was peppered with gunfire. Dipper locked the door, though he didn’t know how much good it would do, with the pseudo-SWAT team hitting it with a constant barrage of bullets. He turned and saw Norman eyeing a button on the console. It said “Purge.” Dipper stepped towards him.

Norman’s voice was shaky but full of intention. “An army of nightmares, huh?” He locked eyes with Dipper for a moment. Dipper saw everything in Norman’s eyes: the doubt, the guilt, the fear. Dipper nodded. Norman looked out at the men firing at them. If he had had his high-speed camera with him, Dipper would have been able to pinpoint the exact moment Norman realized there was no other choice.

And slammed his hand down on the button.

From behind the safety that the glass provided, Dipper could see the lights above each elevator come on. The lead guard held up his fist. “Hold fire!”

And for a moment, it was dead silent.

All eight doors opened.

The place was transformed from hotel lobby to warzone in an instant. Werewolves, aliens, mutants, robots, and every other form of monster poured out the doors, decimating the men, guns or no. Another wave of guards arrived just in time for the lights to come on again and another eight monstrosities to pour out.

Dipper grabbed Norman and pulled him until the both of them were sitting side by side on the floor, backs against the back wall, facing the window, where a torrent of blood obscured the gruesome view. But they could hear the screams.

****  
  


“Sector twelve down, sector eight down, sector three down…” Preston listed.

Gideon was in awe. “Jesus Christ…”

“Why aren’t the defenses working?!” Preston demanded. “Where’s the FUCKING GAS?!”

Gideon typed furiously. “Something chewed through the connections in the utility shaft.”

“Something which?”

“Something scary!”

Then, the lights shut off and the screens went dead. Just as the auxiliary power kicked in, something hit the door with enough force to buckle it.

****  
  


Something crashed through the glass, sending shards throughout the room. The something crashed into the opposite wall and started to unfurl. It looked like some kind of half-bat, half-dragon creature.

“Come on!” Dipper grabbed Norman’s hand, and the two of them left the guard station, staying low. Which wasn’t hard to do when the people trying to kill them had “an army of nightmares” to contend with. By the time they left the control room, most of the creatures in the lobby were more occupied with killing and feeding than they were with hunting. They moved towards the exit.

A man in a labcoat rushed by, running straight into Norman and knocking him to the floor. “The north exit is blocked, you can’t go there!” He yelled, as Dipper helped Norman back to his feet.

The dragon-bat-thing sped out of the hole it had left in the window and crashed straight into a wall before chowing down on the man in the labcoat, and the two turned to the right.

A singing woman in a white dress was approaching a guard, who was whimpering on the ground. Not that way.

They turned, but the left side was occupied by some not-torture-obsessed zombies.

“Don’t suppose you could… Tell ‘em a story?” Dipper said with the hint of a smile.

“Heh. Only if you sing.”

The screech of the dragon-bat brought them back to the situation at hand, and they looked around for another escape. Any other escape.

Dipper glanced into the hole that the dragon-bat had left in the wall. At least there were no creatures in there. “Go, go, go!”

And the two of them climbed in.

****  
  


The scarecrows got Robbie. They were tearing him apart, and Gideon was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to do it to any one of them. He saw Robbie pull a grenade from his belt.

“We’re running out of time!” He yelled to Preston.

“It’s on emergency lockdown! We gotta bypass!” Preston responded, desperately entering codes into a trap door.

Robbie’s grenade went off, decimating him and the scarecrows and sending Gideon flying.

He heard someone call his name. He heard Preston saying, “I’m close, I’m close, I’m close…” He heard… He heard a disgusting squelch and a slurping sound coming from his left.

He managed to look up.

Right into the eyes of a Merman.

“Oh, come on.”

The last thing he said before his face was devoured.

Preston watched. The door pinged. “Got it.” He said as the trap door opened.

And an enormous tentacle crashed through the ceiling. “Shit!” He swung himself through the door and shut it behind him, descending the ladder and running down the hall - not a modern hall, like the rest of the complex, which was all white walls and metal, but an ancient-looking passageway with a dirt floor.

He raced to the end of the hall and rounded the corner, only to impale himself on… a trowel. Preston looked at the wound in his chest. He looked at the hand holding the trowel. He looked up. Of -fucking- Course. Spikey-hair looked back at him, stricken.

“Y-you…”

The other one came up behind him and took in the scene.

Preston knew he was going to die. Preston knew these kids had no idea what they were doing. Preston knew that this was his last chance to save the world.

He pulled away and glared at the other one. Spikey-hair raised the weapon again, but Preston took his wrist. “No no no! Please, please…”

But how? How could he possibly explain everything in the short time he had left.

He realized.

He couldn’t.

“Kill him.”

****  
  


“Norman, come on.”

Norman had killed the man in the lab coat. He had held the trowel in his hand as it pierced his chest and sucked the life out of him. But he really shouldn’t be so worked up about that. After all, this man was far from the first man Norman had killed tonight. He’d pressed the button. He’d let the monsters out. Every single horror they had passed in the hallway - and all the ghosts he saw, still screaming - and countless others he never even witnessed were because of him. Because he’d let those things out and let those people die.

God.

He didn’t even give the man’s words a second thought. He wouldn’t be killing anyone else ever again, let alone the love of his life. He had killed too many people to protect him. He had-

“Norman.” He looked up from his bloody hands - when had his gaze even wandered there? - and somehow managed to meet Dipper’s eyes. Dipper took his hands, not caring that his own were now covered in the same blood. “We did what we needed to do. We’re doing what we have to to get out of here, okay?”

Norman didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. He saw the good in people, but more than that he saw the people in people. He knew they all had lives outside this godforsaken place. And he had ripped those away. It was the worst thing he could have possibly-

“Okay?”

But then he looked into Dipper’s eyes. And realized he would do it all again to keep him alive. He’d do it a thousand times. He squeezed his hands. “Y-yeah. Okay.”

“Come on.” Dipper handed Norman the gun. “Here, you lost the trowel…”

“No,” he waved it away. “I don’t want- then you’ll be defenseless and-”

“Just take it,” Dipper said. “It’s easier…”

Norman finally nodded and took the gun. Dipper could be stubborn, and Norman didn’t really have the strength to argue right then.

Dipper took his other hand and they continued down the hallway.

They came to a staircase and descended quickly, cautiously. Past that, there was a chamber. It was dirty and ancient, like the hallway and the staircase, but this was somehow different. Older, probably. Larger, for sure. Much larger. It had a high, towering ceiling. It was almost reminiscent of a church, if not for… well, everything else about it. The platform they stood on was tiled into some demonic mark with five interlocking leg-shaped lines all facing out. Hung from the rounded walls were five engravings. The first on the left was of a dancing figure tipping a wine glass. The next was a figure holding a pen and a scroll. In the middle was a muscular figure with a ball and a javelin in either hand. Then was a figure with long hair and a suggestively-spread robe. And the last was one with its hands folded in front of it’s body modestly.  

They separated, but shared a look that said stay close.

Norman looked over the side. The chamber wasn’t just high. It was unimaginably deep, too. A fall from the platform looked nearly as deadly as the monsters. He stepped back from the edge and studied the engravings.

“Look at these,” he called to Dipper, who was across the chamber. “Five of them.”

Dipper glanced at the ones on his side before meeting Norman’s gaze. “What are they?”

Norman looked at the dancing man, the academic, the jock, the long-haired woman, the modest figure… “Us…”

“What?”

“I should have seen it like you did.”

“Norman, what are you talking about?”

Norman was shaking again. “This is all part of a ritual.”

Dipper blinked. “A ritual sacrifice?” Dipper’s forehead crinkled in that way it always did when he got angry, and he swatted the air as if it was responsible. “Great! You- you tie someone to a stone, get a fancy dagger and a bunch of robes. It’s not that complicated!” He said sarcastically.

“No, it’s simple!” Norman said, almost hysterical. “They don’t just wanna see us killed!” He eyed the modest engraving. “...They wanna see us punished.”

“Punished for what?” Dipper asked.

“For being young?” Responded the voice.

The two of them jumped together instinctively, and turned to see a… being approach them. It was definitely not human, that much Norman knew. It was shaped like a triangle, it had one eye, and it wore a top-hat and a bow-tie. It would have been adorable if it hadn’t been terrifying. It was floating off the ground. Dipper threw an arm out in front of Norman.

“It’s different in every culture.” The voice - the thing - continued. “And it has changed over the years, but it has always required youth.” It glanced around the chamber. “There must be at least five.” Its line of sight landed on the long-haired image. “The Whore.”

Dipper made to tackle it - Nobody talked about his sister that way - but Norman put a hand on his shoulder. They didn’t know what that thing could do, best not to risk attacking it yet.

The thing raised half its eyebrow. “She’s corrupted. She dies first.” It floated around to each of the engravings in turn. “The Athlete.” Neil. “The Scholar.” Salma. “The Fool.” He glanced at Dipper. That couldn’t be right. “All suffer and die at the hands of whatever horror they have raised. Leaving the last to live or die as fate decides.” It came to a stop in front of the modest picture. “The Virgin.” And it looked directly at Norman.

“Me?” He blinked, and he and Dipper shared a look. “I, uh…”

Dipper tried to be helpful. “He’s not-”

“We work with what we have!” the triangle thing snapped.

Norman looked at Dipper and shrugged.

“What if you fail?” Dipper asked, serious again.

“Then they rise,” the thing responded.

“Who does?” Norman asked, remembering looking down into the abyss under the platform. “What’s beneath us?”

“The ancient ones.” The one-eyed triangle gestured broadly around them. “The gods that used to rule the earth. As long as they accept our sacrifice, they remain below. But the other rituals have all failed-” The platform shook as debris shook free from the high ceiling and slammed into the platform below, shaking the boys almost off their feet. They took hold of each other’s arms. “The sun is coming up in eight minutes,” it said urgently, and looked at Dipper. “If you live to see it, the world will end.”

“Maybe that’s the way it should be!” Norman didn’t realize he had spoken until he saw both Dipper and the thing staring at him. The gun was like lead in his hand, and he was shaking so bad he could hear it clatter. “I-if you have to kill everyone I care about to s-survive? Maybe it’s time for a change!”

“We’re not talking about change!” The thing approached them. “We’re talking about the agonizing death of every living soul on the planet.”

He could already see the gears working in Dipper’s head. He could see him putting it all together. If he survived, the world would end. That meant friends, family… Norman. If there was one thing Norman knew, it was that Dipper would do anything for the people he loved. Even… Even this.

“Including you,” it said, focusing on Dipper again. “You can die with them, or you can die for them.”

“Gee,” Norman didn’t know what he was saying, just that he needed to say something, anything, to distract his boyfriend from thinking so goddamn hard. “They’re both so enticing!” But whatever he tried, it didn’t work. Dipper stepped away from Norman and took his hand, but not the empty hand, and not out of comfort. No, Dipper took the hand with the gun. “No!” Norman screamed and pulled away.

“Norman, listen.”

“No, Dipper. No! I don’t care about ancient gods! I don’t care about the world!” He was lying of course. He did care. He just cared about Dipper more. “I don’t! And I won’t let you-”

Dipper’s voice was calm - a total contrast to Norman’s hysterical screaming. “The whole world, Norman.” He gently took Norman’s shaking hand and brought it up so that the gun was pointed at his own head.

“It’s in your hands,” the thing said, though Norman didn’t know whether it was addressing him or Dipper. “There’s no other way.”

Dipper stepped forward until the muzzle of the gun was touching the skin on his forehead, in the center of that birthmark Norman loved so much. “Please, Norman. Be strong.” No. No, he couldn’t. “For me.”

He sobbed, and while before the only thing keeping that gun up was Dipper’s hand on the barrel, he felt his own fingers take on its full weight as Dipper’s hand dropped away. Norman was- He was- He had to somehow find the strength to- He sobbed. “I c-”

“Norman!” Dipper screamed as the werewolf they’d seen before lept out of the darkness and sunk its jaws into Norman’s shoulder. Norman went down and the gun went flying. The werewolf’s teeth dug into his shoulder like a fork through a birthday cake.

After that everything was a blur of pain and screaming. He heard Dipper yelling, saw glimpses of... something, and heard the gun go off.

The werewolf went still and it’s carcass was torn off of him. “Norman?” His eye blinked open and Dipper was leaning over him with the gun in his hand, having shot the werewolf through the chest. He took Norman’s hand and helped him get up. He flinched, but he tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder. There were more important things.

“M-must be silver bullets, then.”

“Norman.” Dipper put the gun back in his hand. “It’s okay.”

He couldn’t do it. Norman raised the gun. He couldn’t kill him. Norman cocked it. But all at once Norman knew that… for Dipper… he could- he could save the world.

“I love you, Norman.”

He put his other hand on the gun to hold it steady. He took a breath.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Norman said.

“What?” The thing was more frustrated than helpful.

“Mabel is flirtatious, sure, but-”

“There was a hormone concoction in the hair dye.”

_Screwing with the chemistry in her brain._ “Well, Salma, I get. She’s a genius. And Neil is incredibly strong. But Dipper is no fool. He just saved my life for the thousandth time tonight, and he was the one who figured this whole thing out.”

“The tarot definition of a fool is ‘a spirit in search of experience.’ He was the one who brought the four of you here, no?”

“But-”

“We work with what we have,” the thing repeated. “Four minutes.”

Dipper looked worried. “Norman-”

“You know,” Norman’s eyes were locked on the gun, but he was addressing the triangle thing again. “You guys really dropped the ball on this one.”

“Excuse me?” asked the grating voice. Dipper just looked at him, confused and nervous.

“I said,” he continued, “you really fucked this up. You chose the wrong people to screw with, let me tell you.”

“Says the kid about to shoot someone.”

Norman shut his eyes for a moment. The thing wasn’t wrong. “And that was just your first mistake. You let us live, you let us find the elevator, you let us wander around your facility. You had no idea who you were dealing with. You couldn’t stop us. You made so many mistakes.”

Dipper stared at him, the confusion ebbing. Norman wasn’t surprised. Dipper always knew what Norman was thinking.

“You seriously fucked up.”

“You might want to hold your tongue, Virgin.” The thing was squinting at him, hands balled into fists. “My orders were flawless. It’s not my fault you two refused to die.”

“You gave the orders.” Norman almost smiled. “I kinda figured. The whole world was riding on this, and you let us get all the way down here. And now you expect me to shoot…” he met Dipper’s eyes. “To shoot my best friend. To shoot my best friend and save the world at the last second. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Two minutes.” The behatted thing glared.

“ _Do you know what that makes you?_ ” He insisted.

It shrugged. “Lucky?”

“No.” He looked directly at the thing.

The goddamn hat-wearing triangle thing. The thing that killed their friends. That fucked with Mabel’s head and let the three of them die right in front of him. That wanted him to kill Dipper. That destroyed everything that Norman loved.

For a moment, he forgot about the giant gods below them. He forgot about saving the world. He forgot about all the people above. The only people in his universe were Dipper and the thing.

And the gun went off.

And the triangle thing fell from where it floated, and hit the stone floor. A puddle of blood spread from the bullet wound straight through its eye.

“A fool.”

There was another rumbling from above, and for a moment Norman feared it hadn’t worked, but then the engraving of the dancing figure filled with blood. The chamber stopped shaking. Rubble stopped falling. And it was quiet. He let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and let the gun fall to the floor.

“Norman.” Norman turned around just in time for Dipper to throw his arms around his middle. Norman was glad for that - he wasn’t sure if he could hold himself up at this point. He buried his face in Dipper’s shoulder. “That was stupid and crazy and genius!” Dipper snapped.

“I learned from the best.” He muttered. Dipper chuckled. “Dipper?”

“Yeah, Norm?”

“That-” His breath stuttered. “That’s the last person I’m ever gonna kill, okay?”

“Yeah.” He brought up a hand to run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Yeah, Norman, I promise.”

“Good.”

They stayed like that for a minute, wrapped up in each other.

 

 

The boys made their way through the carnage that used to be the ritual complex - the monsters had begun to fight each other, and being equally matched left most of the remaining ones destroyed - until they reached the lobby with the elevators. From the guard’s demolished control station, Dipper tinkered enough to send them back up.

Up.

When they reached the surface, cell reception was back.  Dipper guessed the only reason it was down in the first place was that the now-destroyed complex had been blocking it.

Dipper made the call. He knew from experience that nobody would believe the real story, so he watered it down a bit. He told them their friends were killed by a crazy torture-obsessed zombie family.

After that, he led the both of them to the side of the lake, where they sat down. The sun was just starting to rise above the treeline, painting the slightly-cloudy sky with every color from purple-almost-blue to a deep blood red.

Help was on the way. Which was great because Dipper’s back felt like a thousand knives running up and down his spine, and Norman’s shoulder was still bleeding sluggishly.

Dipper gently slid Norman’s slightly-damp hoodie off his shoulders and pressed it to the bite on his shoulder. The medium flinched, but he didn’t say anything. Dipper was the one to break the silence.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he promised.

Norman looked up at him, as if wondering if he really believed that. Dipper felt his chest clench at how broken his eyes looked. He let one of his hands leave the crumpled hoodie and take Norman’s.

“We are. We’ll get through this.”

Norman looked at Dipper, at their joined hands, at the brilliant sunrise reflected in the lake. "I don't think Neil even has a cousin."

Dipper gave a quiet half-laugh and it was quiet for another moment. The sun rose steadily above the peaks of the trees.

“What’s gonna happen next year?" Norman asked. "Do- Won’t they have to do it all over again?”

“Well, whatever happens, they won’t be coming after us again. Not when we know so much.”

“But we destroyed the complex.” Norman insisted. “How are they gonna- who’s going to stop the gods from destroying the world?”

“The dorito said the other rituals all failed this time. I guess next year it’ll be up to the others to make it happen.”

Norman was quiet a moment, and not for the first time Dipper wished he knew what his boyfriend was thinking. Was he mourning their friends? Was he thinking about the workers at the complex? The triangle thing? Was he wondering what their future was going to look like after everything they’d been through? Was he-

“The…” Norman looked at him. “The dorito?”

Dipper stared at him. Norman stared back. And out of nowhere the two of them were giggling like crazy.

And as the red sky gave way to a bright blue day, Dipper, for the first time since the chamber, believed his own words.

“We will be okay,” he said. “I just know it.”

“Yeah.” Norman smiled at him, eyes watery but bright. “Maybe we will.”


End file.
